


The Angels' New Clothes

by pherryt



Series: Invisible Wings [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angel Wings, Bottom Castiel, Bottom!Cas, Exhibitionism, M/M, NSFW Art, PWP, Sam Is Scarred For Life, Smut, Tattoos, Top Dean, Wing Kink, ass jeans, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 23:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10819215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Castiel's found a new pair of jeans and he'd like the Winchester brothers opinion on them.Sam's even more positive than before that Dean's corrupted an Angel of the Lord and Dean just can't wait to get a closer look...





	The Angels' New Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the HIdden by the Trenchcoat Kink Challenge and inspired by a post in the same community about these pants:  
> [ I have no idea what to call these jeans, but they have a zipper on the ass](http://twentytwowords.com/these-jeans-have-a-zipper-for-your-butt-so-go-ahead-and-insert-your-joke-here/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=22&utm_campaign=22)
> 
> art by me - it's a pencil sketch with basic shading scanned in by photoshop and colors added on top via transparent layers.
> 
> I'm pretty proud of this piece...I hope you all like it too! :D (Later, I think i'm gonna take all my in process photos and try to make an animated gif with it - Wish me luck!)
> 
> thank you to [DeadlyKittenKay(PrettyBlueIz)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyBlueIz/pseuds/DeadlyKittenKay) for taking a look at it and reassuring me that it wasn't crap! lol
> 
> So, I don't write smut often...I'm always very nervous when I do - opinions?

The day Cas walked into the kitchen of the bunker with  _ those  _ jeans on – and nothing but the jeans, his chest (and for that matter, his back and arms and belly) bare of all but the tattoos he’d started to collect (though the ones on his back were mostly obscured by the huge wings, blue and black feathers and all the shades between fluttering slightly at each step and every stretching movement that Castiel made) - Dean nearly choked (and not in the fun way). Sam’s eyes bugged out and he opened and closed his mouth several times, doing his best impression of a landed fish. Dean, meanwhile, was doing his best to just start breathing again.

That seemed to happen a lot around Castiel.

Cas grabbed his coffee and sat between the brothers – rather closer to Dean than to Sam, of course - the tips of his wings brushing down along Dean’s arm as he sipped his coffee happily, beaming. “Good morning, Sam. Good morning, Dean. What do you think of my new pants?”

“Th-they’re uh, certainly, um…unique. I don’t think I’ve ever seen pants with…a zipper… _ there _ …” Sam swallowed and turned to glare at Dean, the glare saying quite plainly, ‘You’ve corrupted an Angel of the Lord. Are you happy now?’.  It was a look Dean was well familiar with, Sam having started using it back during the first Apocalypse, though he’d definitely managed to perfect it, honing it to a fine edge since Dean and Castiel finally got their heads out of their asses and admitted that they were  _ something  _ more than just friends.

Dean shook his head back at his brother, sending along his own look that answered, ‘Hey, I’m as surprised as you! I had nothing to do with this…this time’.

Rolling his eyes, Sam turned back to Cas, in time to catch him saying  “- and now it’ll be more comfortable to use the bathroom here. You know how cold the bunker can get sometimes.” Cas was still beaming and Sam’s jaw dropped in shock. Did Cas honestly think that the pants were grown up footie pajamas or something? He leaned forward to correct him when Dean grabbed his arm and shook his head sharply.

Cas got up to refill his mug at the same time and Dean took the opportunity to harshly whisper to Sam, “Don’t you dare tell him. He’s so proud of himself, just leave him be. You can do that, can’t you Sam?”

“Fine, whatever. I’m going to catalogue storage closet 72 today. I think it might be an all day job, but we’ll see. Just…don’t forget I’m still around, ‘kay? I don’t want to walk in on the two of you having sex in inappropriate locations again.”

“Who? Us? That was like, one time.” Dean leaned back in his chair with a smirk.

“Actually, Dean, it was 23,” Castiel sat down again, his long fingers curled around the mug, obscuring the little bees that decorated it, “And that’s only counting this week. I believe last week was 17.”

Dean smiled fondly, “Remember the week we fucked like, 58 times? I think we set a god damn record…”

“God, I don’t understand how the two of you can keep at it so much. Are Angels related to rabbits by any chance?” Sam inquired, then shook his head. “Never mind, I don’t  _ really  _ want to know the answer to that question, so just don’t. At any rate, I rest my case. The two of you better behave. I’m looking at  _ you,  _ Dean.” Sammy tossed another bitch face at his brother over his shoulder for good measure and left the room.

Dean opened his mouth to protest but Sam was out of earshot too fast. “God, if only he  _ knew _ …” he muttered.

“Finally, I thought he’d never leave,” Castiel growled, shoving the mug carefully aside. It was his favorite mug and a gift from Dean. He had no intention of letting it get broken.

“Wait, what?” Dean blinked in confusion.

The angel stood up with a smirk, his wings flaring out for balance, and wasted no time in climbing into Dean’s lap, resting his weight on his knees, which he spread out on either side of Dean’s legs on the chair. Castiel leaned forward, sliding his arms up over Dean’s shoulders, clasping his hands behind Dean’s neck and hovering his mouth by Dean’s ear, whispering in gravelly tones, “What I told Sam was true. But there’s another reason I wanted these pants…” Cas punctuated the end of his sentence with a roll of his hips and Dean whimpered, growing hard. “I think you get the picture.”

Dean nodded vehemently, his dick already aching and straining against the zipper of his jeans. It never took all that much effort on Cas’s behalf to get Dean riled up and horny. Which was the biggest reason why Sam kept catching them going at it in places they shouldn’t be.

And today was certainly no different. In fact, Dean was sure he’d gotten hard in record time. Dean’s need grew tenfold as he scented Cas, smelled the Angel’s own lust and desire mingling with his own, the smell of the wing oils that were surely running down Cas’s back and soaking into those fucking jeans.

Dean licked at Cas’s throat causing the Angel to moan. Dean made his way upwards, mouthing at the bolt of his jaw, and then over to the Angels perpetually chapped lips. Dean didn’t understand why they were always chapped, but they were softer than they looked, and he quickly sucked Cas’s bottom lip into his mouth before letting go to slide their tongues together, eyes fluttering closed as his hands soothed their way down Cas’s back, stopping briefly to tug their way through some of the more sensitive feathers – Cas gasped into Dean’s mouth at the touch - before dipping into the nubs at the base of those gorgeous wings that were leaking oil steadily. At the first touch to the oil glands, Cas threw his head back with a cry, then diving back down to join their lips and tongues together once more. Whimpering as Dean coated the fingers of one hand in the oil while the other trailed further down to find the zipper at the back of the jeans and ease it down.

_And oh fuck…_ Dean’s hips jerked upwards as his fingers found warm, bare flesh beneath the jeans, no pretense of underwear of any kind. Cas had _definitely_ been planning this. Sam thought the Angel was innocent (well, that wasn’t quite the right word, but Dean had other things, _better_ things on his mind than to worry about his vocabulary) but it was Cas that initiated much of the *ahem* _kinkier_ stuff that Cas and Dean had tried.

Dean was often just so fucking glad he got to have this, that he hadn’t chased Castiel away with his emotional constipation and absolute stupidity, that he just didn’t care what they tried, as long as it was with Cas. The sheer number of times Dean had almost lost Cas, or been convinced he’d lost him, had made him realize how fucking lucky he was right now, and he wasn’t about to question a minute of it.

He loved Cas too goddamned much to waste any more time being an idiot. Besides, Cas hadn’t yet come up with anything he didn’t enjoy immensely. And getting the opportunity to annoy his little brother was always a plus. It was totally win/win.

Sliding the zipper the rest of the way down, Dean cupped Cas’s deliciously bare ass and massaged it, urging him forward. Cas didn’t need much urging, grinding down eagerly, their erections rubbing against each other. Dean groaned into Cas’s mouth. The Angel would be the death of him, he was sure.

But oh, what a way to go.

Put that on Dean’s tombstone. “Death by Sex Angel” and let all the rest of the hunters wonder what the fuck a sex angel was. They’d never know and Sam would never tell. He’d be too god-damn mortified.

That might have been the best part – Dean loved to torment his brother. It was an older brother’s prerogative after all – but in all actuality,  _ Cas  _ was the best part and Dean couldn’t wait to get inside him.

Dean’s left hand grabbed the swell of Cas’s ass in a tight grip, tugging one side of it to expose the Angels needy hole for him, only wishing that he could see it. Maybe he should start installing mirrors all over the bunker.

Sam just might kill him as soon as he figured out why.

Dean’s other hand - now dripping wet with what he was _ convinced  _ was the most intoxicating, delicious tasting thing in the entire world and four realms, no wait five (he may not remember the Fairy Realm but he was certain they had nothing better than this. Screw it, make that six realms and add Oz to that list) -  slid down to Cas’s exposed hole, leaving an oily trail behind. Dean’s fingers circled the rim and Cas started panting, their kiss turning sloppy.

“Please…” he whispered before attempting to steal Dean’s breath again. He broke the kiss with another cry, his body arching backwards and his wings flying out to their full extension as Dean breached him with the first finger. Dean gazed up at Cas in awe, eyes trailing over every inch of skin, over every feather – head to toe, wingtip to wingtip. Cas’s eyes were closed, robbing Dean of the sight of his eyes, but his mouth was open, making the most fantastic sounds with every thrust of Dean’s finger into the Angel’s body. “Oh…oh, oh yes, there, Dean, there…”

Dean pushed forward along the arch of Cas’s body, melting into him, Dean’s left hand coming up to rest between Cas’s shoulder blades to give him support. Dean continued to work his finger inside the angel, adding another as quick as he could, all while mouthing down Cas’s long neck to the erect nipples.

Dean laved his tongue around the hard nubs, tugging with his nips and nipping gently with his teeth – he had no real desire to cause the love of his life pain. There’d been enough of that already and it was one kink he hoped the Angel never asked to explore - listening to Cas’s gasps and groans, his own sensitive nipples rubbing tantalizingly on the inside of his shirt with every shift, wishing he had Cas’s talented fingers at work there.

But that’s not where this was going. Not this time. This was all for Cas.

Their hips rolled together and Cas’s hands slipped down from behind Dean’s neck to lock on his shoulders, fingers flexing in time with the fingers inside him, his arms fully extended to give himself leverage for every thrust of their still clothed cocks against each other before pushing back to bury Dean’s fingers deeper inside of him.

Eager to please, to give Cas what he needed, Dean spread his fingers wide and added a third, thrusting over and over deep inside the angel, shifting and flexing, searching for that one spot and reveling in the desperate cries the Angel made every time Dean found it. He was nearly always the instigator in these games, but Dean didn’t mind. “Dean…need you…need…”

“Yeah, yeah Cas, I got ya,” Dean whispered against Cas’s stomach, tonguing and tracing every line of the tattoos until he got to the top of the jeans and the tattoos disappeared beneath the now loose waistband. Dean was tempted to slide open the zipper on this side and free Cas’s erection. It was already poking up slightly from beneath the gaping waist band, precum gathering at the tip. It wouldn’t take much to let it out. Dean bit his lip, his mouth salivating at the thought of Cas’s hard cock in his mouth.

But he had another idea, and he was pretty damn sure this was what Cas had wanted, had planned when he put on the jeans in the first place _.  Where the hell had the Angel even found them? _ the thought ran suddenly through his head, quickly followed by the all important question of how many pairs Cas might have bought. Dean removed his fingers from Cas’s well prepped and oiled hole. Cas whined, “Deaaaaaan….”

“Turn around Cas,” Dean answered. Cas finally blinked his lids open again, looking down at Dean with lust blown eyes. Dean could only assume his eyes looked the same. With a shaky nod and a wide grin of anticipation, Cas stood – but before he turned, he looked down thoughtfully. His grin quirked up in that way that Dean  _ knew _ Cas was about to do something to drive him crazy.

He was right. Cas fell to his knees, his wings coming around to enfold Dean within their soft, dark cocoon, the feathers attempting to find any of Dean’s exposed skin to caress lovingly, gently, even as Castiel’s nimble fingers opened Dean’s pants and pulling the hard, pulsing shaft out through the gap in the hunters boxers.

It was Cas’s turn to reach behind himself for the oil glands of his wings, thoroughly coating his own fingers before bringing them around to grasp Dean’s dick, sliding his hand up and down torturously slow, getting him all slicked up. Dean panted and groaned, trying hard to keep himself in check, to be able to last until he could penetrate Cas, give him all the pleasure that he could.

But Cas made it hard – no pun intended. And the look in Cas’s eyes proved that he would make it harder for Dean to hold off.

It was easy to see that as much as he wanted to, Cas couldn’t resist any more. The Angel licked his lips as he watched the head of Dean’s cock disappear in his fist again and again, Dean unable to stop the twitching upwards movements completely.

Way too hard to resist. This wasn’t the game but neither one of them cared as Cas leaned forward and started sucking the head of Dean’s cock. First with light kisses and teasing, dipping his tongue into the slit before suddenly engulfing Dean’s shaft completely with his mouth. They moaned simultaneously – Dean at the sensation of pure wet heat and fabulous pressure. Castiel from tasting both himself and Dean, and at the perfect throbbing weight in his mouth, the clear evidence of Dean’s desire. Deans fingers tangled into the messy dark hair, encouraging Cas to bob his head up and down and relishing in the fact that the Angel didn’t have a gag reflex.

Now it was Dean who was moaning and begging. Finally, and all too soon, Cas slid his mouth reluctantly off of Dean’s thick cock with a wet pop. Once again, Cas reached awkwardly behind himself to reach his wing glands, taking the time to recoat Dean’s straining cock before standing to turn around, bracing himself above Dean’s dick and slowly lowering himself.

Despite the prep, despite how often the two of them had intercourse, Cas was always tight in the best way. Dean whimpered at the hot, clenching embrace around his cock, Cas sheathing Dean’s shaft in a torturously slow glide.

“Fuuuuuck…”

When they bottomed out, they sat there, perfectly still for just a moment, adjusting, giving each other the time to reign themselves in just enough that they wouldn’t lose it at the first thrust.

At a glance, to an unsuspecting passerby, they would look an innocent portrait unless one took the time to look closer. Dean would appear still fully clothed, his open pants unseen with Cas sitting in his lap, and Dean, in turn hid Cas’s open jeans.

Dean planted his feet down firmly on the ground, wrapped an arm around Cas’s stomach, palming the tattoo on his side. Dean’s other hand moved up Cas’s naked chest and pulled him back against Dean’s shirt, never mind that Cas’s wing oil was likely soaking into the old tee. Some sacrifices were fucking worth it.

This was absolutely no time to worry about clothing. Dean began to thrust, Cas’s head thrown back to rest on Dean’s shoulder, Dean hooking his chin over Cas’s to whisper into the Angel's ear.

“Was this what you wanted, Cas? For me to fuck you with nobody the wiser? Sam could come back in here and we could still be fucking, we’d just go slower.  You could sit here on my cock and he’d never even know. How often do you think we could do this? Get away with it? How many instances have you already planned in that tactical brain of yours? Fuck,” Dean continued to thrust, the heat and pressure around him so exquisite feeling, so amazing he could hardly think. What had he been saying? Oh, right, “Sam thinks you’re so fucking innocent. Nnnnnng! If only he…he knew…”

Dean turned and pulled the lobe of Cas’s ear into his mouth, making the Angel’s breath hitch and groan. Cas pushed back, one arm up over his head to grab at Dean’s head, fingers scrabbling in the short, dirty blonde spikes while the other had the fabric of Dean’s jeans clenched in a white knuckled grip.

Their breathing was rapid and short. Filled with needy gasps, interspersed occasionally with broken words and moans.

“Fuck yeah, like – oooooh…that feels good – yes!  Just. Like. That! OH fuck, oh fuck, oh-ohohhh! Harder,” Cas whimpered, his ass rolling and grinding down to meet each of Dean’s thrusts, his hole easily and greedily swallowing Dean’s dick with every upward push Dean made.

Dean let go of Cas’s ear and moved down to the beautiful line of Cas’s arched neck and  _ sucked. _

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Sam was already coming back.  _ Shit. He’d only just left. Why the fuck was he already coming back - wait a second _ – Dean grinned. He slowed, stilled and Cas whimpered, chasing his own pleasure by grinding back into Dean’s lap. Dean’s arms tightened around the Angel and forced his hips to stop. Cas could break Dean’s hold any time he wanted. But he didn’t.

Yeah, he knew it. The Angel was fucking getting  _ off _ on the idea that they might get caught. Or maybe he  _ wanted  _ to get caught, like he was staking his claim or something, even though it was only Sam.

Dean could play with that.

“Not a sound, baby. Sam’s gonna come in here. And he’s not gonna know what we’re doing. He’s not going to know that I’m fucking you full,” Dean thrust upward, flexing the muscles of his ass and his thighs to make the movements powerful, yet small enough not to be seen. In fact…if he could just alter his angle a little bit, he could nail Cas’s prostate and then just grind on it – no huge and noticeable hip movements at all, but he’d be driving Cas crazy with pleasure.

And the best part was that Sam would never be the wiser.

But  _ they  _ would know. And Dean was  _ sure  _ now that the idea of being caught was a turn on for Cas. Why else would have gotten these fucking jeans.

Dean tilted forward enough that their lips met in wet, open kisses, the shivers rolling through their bodies with each small touch of tongue to tongue, lip to lip.

Sam walked in and rolled his eyes. “I told you, get a fucking room before you advance past making out, okay guys?” He rummaged through the kitchen to snag a couple of bottles of water, chattering the entire time. “I’m scarred enough already for about a billion lifetimes.”

Softly, minutely, Dean pulled Cas back on his dick, otherwise staying immobile. He shifted Cas slightly and pushed him back again. Cas’s eyes rolled back in his head, Dean swallowing the whimper of sound, proud for punching that sound out of Cas around a kiss.  _ There it was _ , Dean smirked. “I said not a sound, Angel,” Dean whispered into Cas’s mouth before diving back in.

Cas looked blissed out. Absolutely blissed out. Then again, who wouldn’t be blissed out if someone – especially if that someone was a person you loved - was nailing your prostate? Even better, if you liked the challenge of deceiving the world of your actions.

Sam chattered, oblivious to the fact that it was not only their tongues touching and thrusting, that the gasps were from more than the intense making out. Completely unaware that Dean was currently fucking Cas right there in the chair.

Sam continued to talk of inconsequential things and neither Dean nor Cas noticed a bit of the conversation.  Eventually fed up with Dean and Cas ignoring him, Sam left.

While it had been fun to torture the Angel, Dean was glad when he did.

Cas was so turned on, all his feathers were spread out and the oil had soaked through  _ everything.  _ If Dean’s shirt hadn’t been ruined before, he was positive it was now. And it was a mark in Castiel’s favor, that despite being one of Dean’s favorite shirts, he couldn’t care less. He pulled back from the kiss to lick the oil up from Cas’s back, to suck a feather gently into his mouth.  Freed from Dean’s constraints, Cas moved on Dean’s lap desperately, bouncing himself up and down Dean’s shaft, each movement punctuated with a gasp and a moan every time he impaled himself, hitting that special spot deep inside.

Cas slid his hand down over Dean’s where it still held his stomach, briefly tangling their fingers together before angling for the button of his special jeans.

Leaving his hand on Cas’s stomach, rubbing teasingly above the waistband of the Angel’s jeans, Dean’s other hand pulled Cas back before he could get at his own dick, which was surely aching and hard and  _ oh fuck! _ Dean wished he could look at it, could see it leaking.

His voice gruff, thick with need and desire, approaching Cas levels of gravel, as Dean growled out, “Oh,  _ fuck _ no! You wanted to use the ass zipper so bad, you don’t get to touch yourself. You’ll come on my cock. Think you can do that?”

Cas was too busy chasing his ecstasy to answer. With Dean thick and throbbing inside him, heat tore through him and left him high. He bit his lip to hold back some of the more embarrassing sounds but a thumb touched his lips and pulled the bottom one down.

“Sing for me, Cas,” Dean’s voice was muffled as he continued to suck one feather after another, the angle just right that he could see his shaft sliding through the slick, sliding into Cas. The Angel’s hole pink and puffy and wet with oil, gaping wide. “Let me hear every sound. I want to hear you echo through the bunker.”

Castiel whimpered at Dean’s words and Dean couldn’t hold back anymore.

He stood up, knocking Cas temporarily off balance, carefully maneuvering them so that Cas was bent over the kitchen table. And then he started pounding, Cas crying out at every thrust and push and grind, every pulsing movement of Dean’s cock within him, every strike against his prostate. He leaned forward, his chest on the table and his hands scrabbling, grasping for the far edge. He felt fingers once again threading through his sleek, blue and black feathers, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

He clenched around Dean and Dean moaned, sliding his fingers out of the feathers and down to grasp Cas’s ass, rolling the flesh in his palms, pulling the globes apart so he could better see the Angel’s hole as he fucked into him over and over.

They were both reduced to gasping moans and small words.

“Faster, Dean, ah, ah, ah ha-aard-er  – oh yes! Oh fuck, yes,” as Dean asked, Cas sang each word out loud and clear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! So tight…mmm...fuck. So…so god-damn…oooooooh…” Heat coiled deep within him, Dean felt as if he was ready to burst.

“Deeaaaaan! S-so big…let me feel it…” Cas begged.

“Cas! Ooooh…fuck, I’m in…aaaahh…in Heaven…”

“Yes! There, there, theeeeeeere!” Cas screamed, the ecstasy clear in his voice and it was driving Dean beyond the edge.

“So good – so…so-oo-oh god…love you, Cas…nnnnggg…fuck…” Dean groaned, the words coming out unbidden as skin slapped on skin with wet, slick noises. Cas whimpered beneath him and Dean couldn’t take it anymore.

The sounds they made together, the hot, tight channel around his cock that clenched as Cas neared his orgasm, all of it pulled Dean down and his hips stuttered. Cas’s ass clenched again, his wings arched up high above them both and he came, shuddering, his come soaking the inside of his jeans.

Dean fell against Cas with a whimper at the glorious sensation of Cas coming untouched with Dean still hard inside him. He grabbed the Angel’s hips with both of his hands, mouthed at the spine of the Angel’s back, the ink beneath his lips a blur, and buried his dick as deep as he could go with each and every wild thrust till Dean stilled too, coming with a cry and coating the angel with his seed.

Exhausted, and despite knowing he couldn’t crush the Angel, Dean still pushed himself up till he could drop back into his chair, carefully pulling Cas along with him, keeping every point of contact that he could. He settled Cas on top of his lap again, his softening cock still in the Angel’s ass. The Angel fell against him with a blissful smile.

“So,” Cas smirked breathlessly, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Wh-what question?” Dean tried to catch his breath.

“What do you think of my new pants?” Castiel asked again, his head lolling on Dean’s shoulder.  He lazily moved so that his lips could meet Dean’s neck and tongued along the line of his throat, causing Dean to shudder pleasantly.

Dean chortled tiredly. “Fuck, Cas, they’re awesome. Think of all the places we can have sex without anyone guessing. Fuck, just imagine the sex we could have in the Impala without being accused of public indecency. Me in the driver’s seat – “

“Of course,” Cas smiled fondly at him, eyes closing languidly.

“You riding my dick, just like today,” Dean breathed out slowly, “Mmmm…We’d fog up every fucking window.”

“And when we were done, you know what I’d do?” Castiel smiled softly.

“What would you do, Angel?” Dean asked curiously.

“I’d trace our names on the window inside of a heart,” Cas said the words simply, his arm moving, reaching upward, his hand cupping Dean’s jaw and sliding around to the other side, pulling Dean down for a kiss.

“Cas?” Dean breathed when Cas let Dean’s lips slip free. Castiel smiled and arched up again to return to kissing Dean’s lips, stopping only briefly to breathe soft words against them.

“I love you too, Dean. Till the ends of the universe and back again, there is no one else for me but you. I’m so glad you are in my life. So glad it was I who was chosen to lead the garrison into hell to get you out. So glad it was I – of all the Angels – that found you.”

“Cas…” Dean swallowed against the lump in his throat. “You heard that, huh?”

“Of course I did, Dean. I’ve been waiting for you to admit it, to say it for what feels like forever,” Cas nosed along his jaw and back down to his neck and started sucking marks along the expanse of it. Dean would have nearly snorted if it wasn’t so fucking hot.

“I didn’t mean to…” Dean started to say, Cas’ face twisting and falling at the words till he hurried to assure him. “I mean, I did, but, not like this. They say you should never say I love you for the first time during sex because it always comes off as insincere, I guess because too many people say it in the throes of passion but don’t mean it. But I do, oh God, I do. You gotta believe me.”

“Shhhh….” Castiel wiped away at the tears running down Dean’s face –  _ when the fuck had he started crying? And why?  _ – “I believe you. I can feel what you feel, Dean. We’ve always been connected, even if I didn’t always understand it at first, or understand the things I was feeling.”

Dean sniffed, “We have? How?”

“How do you think?” Castiel twisted in Dean’s lap, raising his palm to touch Dean’s shoulder. Even through two layers – a teeshirt and the usual flannel – it felt like a searing hot brand.

“The handprint?” Dean asked incredulously.

Cas nodded.

“Y’know, I kinda miss it,” Dean whispered, not able to look Castiel in the eyes.

We can fix that.”

“What, send me to hell so you can rescue me a second time and rebrand me?” Dean snorted, “I think I’ll pass.”

“Dean,” Castiel’s low gravelly voice washed through him, feathers tickled against his chin as Cas spoke, twisting to look at Dean with an eye roll, “I wasn’t suggesting anything nearly so drastic.” He looked down his torso, bringing a hand to slide over the more prominent tattoos, then looked back up at the hunter with a raised brow.

Dean blinked. Then blinked again, his gaze following Cas’s eyes down, watching his fingers graze over the ink – black and blues and greens primarily – and back up again till his green eyes met the Angel’s blue ones.

“Huh…I hadn’t thought of that. That’s brilliant, Cas,” Dean beamed at him. He ducked down to catch Cas in another deep kiss, then pulled back just enough to rest their foreheads together. “We should do that soon. Like, really soon.”

“Agreed,” Cas grinned, “But I think we need to um…clean up first.”

“Can’t you mojo that away?” Dean asked.

“Of course, but I prefer to share the shower with you. It’s way more fun.” Cas waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to look lascivious but really just looked ridiculous, not that Dean had the heart to tell him that he found it more adorable than anything else.

“Okay, yeah, not gonna argue that.”

Dean stood up, finally slipping out of Cas with the movement. Before taking care of himself, he reached forward to zip up the back of the Angel’s jeans.

Sam, of course, chose that moment to come back in. “What the fuck, guys? You know what? I’m moving out. I can’t take this anymore.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus:
> 
> Dean: "Sam, you're not really leaving, are you?"  
> Sam: "24, Dean. Twen-ty Four times. This week. Alone. Who knows how often in the past month! Never mind the last _several_ months!"  
>  Castiel opens his mouth  
> Sam: "Nope! I don't actually _want_ to know, so save it Cas."  
>  *Bunker door slams shut*  
> Castiel: "Should we tell him that Eileen's taken a case in Mexico?"  
> Dean shrugs: "Meh, he'll figure it out."


End file.
